This Is Not Hell
by Bastion05
Summary: The darkest regions of an author's inspiration is explored to the tune of "This Is Not Hell" by Jimmie's Chicken Shack


Foreword:  
  
Never write a story when you're mad. Ugly things happen.  
  
Now, I am going to warn all of you people. This is down right  
mean. But this songfic has a message with it concerning the  
truest form of the author's creative mind and what really  
fascinates readers when they read a story. I hope it does  
anyway.  
  
I would like to dedicate this to my bamboo eating friend, for  
if wasn't for her, I probably wouldn't have been mad enough to  
write this.  
  
All apologies to these characters and readers that are going to  
suffer.  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
This Is Not Hell   
  
A songfic by Bastion   
  
Inspired by a song by Jimmie's Chicken Shack  
  
[Scene opens with a dim hallway colored in strange shades of   
green, yellow, and red. The camera goes down the hall, and   
doors can be seen every few feet or so, one on each side. At  
the end of the hallway is a merry-go-round, now in motion with  
its lights fluttering agitatedly. The camera follows the  
motions of the merry-go-round, and stops on a person wearing a  
jester's costume with the appropriate painted face. He begins  
to sing.]  
  
if this is hell   
well that's fine with me   
all of the wonder presumably happily   
eager to follow the fool that's got into the head of me   
  
[The jester swings his arms happily and laughs insanely. He  
jumps off the merry-go-round and approaches the nearest door.   
He opens it.]  
  
we don't have any doubt   
we're out there making friends  
unconsciously rolling through meanings from pollings   
the answers are meaner sometimes   
than the means to our ends  
  
[Inside is Uranus, who has found herself in a dress and is  
struggling to get it off. She comes to the instant realization  
she's at a funeral. Confused she looks into the coffin and  
realizes its Neptune. Tears well in her eyes as she notices all  
of her friends point at her with their unforgiving eyes  
narrowed. She turns back to the coffin and sees Neptune sitting  
upright with her bony finger pointing to her accuser.   
  
Uranus screams. The jester sings]  
  
so this is hell   
what else could it be  
  
[He closes the door and opens another.]  
  
bask in the glory of glorified stories  
of a basket case who has just   
broken himself from the weave  
  
[Inside, Mars is singing her heart out in front of a packed  
audience. As she sings she notices the predatory looks she is  
getting from several people in the front row. She does her best  
to ignore them until a tomato whizzes past her face. Suddenly,  
she is pummeled by tomatoes. She feels the juice from the  
tomatoes eating away at her skin. Her screams of pain are cut  
off. Her eyes widen with horror as her father shoves the tomato  
further down her throat.  
  
The jester closes the door and opens another. He keeps  
singing.]   
  
we are not making sense   
who really cares just how we feel  
infantile ramblings of pennyless gambings   
a fist full of hand swinging clubs   
at our new baby zeal  
  
[Inside is Mercury sitting in a desk at school, alone. Several  
friends enter the room, hiding things behind their backs. She  
is about to say hello when all her friends reveal their clubs.   
Terrified, she runs for the exit, only to be nailed in the knee  
by a club. Her friends surround her and mercilessly beat her,  
laughing as they do.   
  
The jester closes the door and smiles a toothy smile.]  
  
yeah right  
  
[He jumps around the hall laughing once again with more fervor.  
The jester runs to another door and looks to the audience.]  
  
you think this is hell   
would you care to bet  
  
[He opens the door, laughing.]  
  
capture the beauty of domestic duty   
the hampers are full and our laundry's perpetually wet  
  
[Inside is Venus lying on the side of a dirt street. She  
notices her filthy attire and small needle scars along her  
forearms. She feels a chilling breeze hit her and looks up. At  
the end of the street is a man encased in ice, screaming  
silently. Venus embraces the cold ice and sobs against it's  
frigid surface.  
  
The jester closes the door and opens another.]  
  
think about traveling south   
find the right something you might have left   
endless the road   
wish your past to explode   
actions remain base   
but intentions in treble clef  
  
[Inside Tuxedo Kamen finds himself sitting in the back-seat of a  
car. A young blond girl with a particular hairstyle is sitting   
next to him. She smiles at him. He smiles back and suddenly  
the car begins to shake and it rolls out of control. The next  
thing he knows he's in the snow beside the twisted wreckage. He  
tries to move, but all his limbs are severely broken. Just ahead  
he sees the head of the blond girl, with her icy blue eyes  
staring back him, unblinking.   
  
Tuxedo Kamen screams. The jester sings.  
  
He closes the door and gets right into the camera.]  
  
yeah right  
  
[He bounces around the hall happily before opening another door.]  
  
this is not hell  
this is purgatory   
caught here in limbo   
I.Q. of a dim bulb   
how many gods does it take   
to screw in the likes of me  
  
[Inside is Pluto, having a romantic dinner with a man of  
royalty. She looks out the window with a magnificent view over  
an entire city of crystal. She smiles at him and he grins at  
her. From out of the shadows, a woman dressed all in white  
interrupts their meal. The woman's lips curl maliciously as  
Pluto apologizes to her Queen. In mid-sentence, the Queen kicks  
Pluto in the stomach. Picking up a glass full of wine, she  
splashes Pluto in the face. Then the man stands next to his  
Queen and smirks. He charges at Pluto, sending her through the  
window. Pluto screams all the way down until she is plastered  
on the street.  
  
The jester closes the door and opens another.]  
  
you'd think one day that I might learn   
stare in the light and you cannot see  
I've opened my doors of perception and can't get  
them shut   
now I feel fucked for free   
everyday yeah I feel fucked for free   
everyday yeah I feel fucked for free   
every day yeah we're all fucked  
  
[Within Jupiter is overlooking a cliff above an ocean. Two men  
appear behind her. Jupiter is startled by their presence, but  
the men put an assuring hand on her shoulders. They spread  
their wings and take Jupiter in flight over the body of water.   
Fear grips Jupiter tighter and tighter as they approach greater  
heights. Her fears are slowly ebbed away by the men's  
reassurance. Abruptly, they stop ascending, leaving Jupiter a  
little confounded. Then their benign expressions give way to  
lustful grins and begin to ravish her until she can't move.   
After they're done, the men let her limp body fall into the sea.  
  
Jupiter screams.   
  
The jester is rolling on the floor and barely is able to close  
the door.]  
  
I left my brain inside of my other head   
you don't impress me  
don't depress me   
don't suppress me   
just get undressed  
  
[The jester dances madly in the hall and the paint on his face  
begins to rub off.]  
  
I left my brain inside of my other head   
the teachers test me   
my father blessed me   
the pigs arrest me   
I get upset  
  
[The jester gets right into the camera and licks the paint off  
his lips. The merry-go-round begins to burn.]  
  
I left my brain inside of my other head   
you don't impress me   
don't depress me   
don't suppress me   
just undress me  
  
[The jester rubs his face with his gloved hands. The fire  
spreads to the rest of the hall.]  
  
the teachers test me   
my father blessed me   
the pigs arrest me   
  
[He rips off the jester hat.]  
  
I get upset  
  
[The audience now sees a young man with short black hair, his  
eyes glowing with inspiration, breathing hard and still  
laughing. The camera fades as the jester is surrounded by  
flames.]  
  
Fin. Ha. Ha. Ha.  
  
Author's Explanation:  
  
This came about because of the pattern I noticed with the  
stories I liked as well as my observation of how those stories  
came about via those author's notes. Being a fan of Davies,  
DDFA, Carp, and Stanton didn't help much, either. As you can  
see, the darkness in ourselves is attracted to the darkness of  
others.   
  
Additional credit goes to Strike Fiss for implanting this idea  
several years ago. But don't blame him, for did not know what  
he was doing!  
  
Again, my apologies...  
  
Sailor Moon is owned by Naoko Takeuchi and in America by DIC.  
The song, "This Is Not Hell" is owned by Jimmie's Chicken Shack  
and Polygram Records Inc.  
  
  
Bastion  
bastion@ix.netcom.com  



End file.
